


Beyond the Fog

by Enterthetadpole



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Medical, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enterthetadpole/pseuds/Enterthetadpole
Summary: Sherlock Holmes hated being an omega, but will a chance meeting with a compassionate alpha doctor change his mind?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 56
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at A/B/O within the fandom. Tags will be updated! Comments and kudos are always great! 
> 
> Thank you to Lakoda18 for their beta work!

It was three needles today. An uptick from two needles the previous week. Sherlock’s arm twitched, and then came the familiar sensation of Mycroft’s fingers as he gripped tighter. 

"If you can't manage an activity _this_ basic, then you’re hardly the one to be doing it."

Mycroft lifted his head from his younger brother's forearm to glare back. It was the type of look that said a thousand things at once, and none of them particularly pleasant. Still, the opening for sarcasm was there, so it was his older brother's duty to take advantage of it. 

"And your history with needles is the exact reason _why_ I am doing it."

Sherlock seemed to decide that silence was the best way to respond and he tried to relax his arm. The familiar glint of the golden solution inside the barrel of the first needle slowly pushed into one of the most promising veins. Then shots two and three directly after. Mycroft threw the empty syringes casually in one of the medical bin. The faint clattering noise the spent barrels made echoed through the empty sitting room as his older brother placed a soft washcloth onto the pinprick marks. Sherlock hissed at the small bloom of renewed sting, and Mycroft winced in spite of the attempt to keep his expression neutral.

"No going out for at least the next two hours today," Mycroft muttered, then waved a hand as Sherlock began to protest. "And this is _not_ a debate. You should be pleased that I'm allowing you to go out at _all_ considering what happened last week."

“Molly being on holiday is why that happened,” Sherlock snapped back. “What’s the point of having an on-call physician if she isn’t around for what she’s paid way too much to do?”

It was helpful that the brothers were in the smaller sitting room and away from the main part of the house. Away from the staff who - whether out of general concern or idle gossip - would find reasons to clean or organize just within earshot of these types of uncomfortable conversations. Mrs. Hudson, their main housekeeper for as long as Sherlock could remember, was especially good at this skill. 

“Molly more than deserved escaping the continent after dealing with your constant belittling of her medial prowess for the better part of the last half a year,” Mycroft replied as he applied a small amount of disinfectant to a cotton ball and gingerly pressed it to Sherlock’s inner arm. “I wouldn’t be shocked if she never returned in September.”

Sherlock was already twisting himself to have a proper sulk on the leather couch. His blue dressing gown rustled as he settled in, and his index and middle fingers fiddled with the applied bandaid as he turned his back on Mycroft. He resigned himself to this being another one of _those_ conversations, but he'd be damned if he was forced to keep eye contact. That would be just more power to give up unnecessarily anyway. 

The couch cushion dipped with his older brother’s weight as he somehow sat on the edge of the middle seat. Then, the odd sensation of a hand on his shoulder as a small sigh broke the silence. 

“They’re getting worse,” Mycroft said softly. “You faded for more than five minutes, Sherlock. Just sat there staring off at the dining room table with your teacup halfway to your lips. I saw it first-hand this time...it was unsettling. You weren’t there anymore...”

Sherlock slid into more of a fetal position as Mycroft paused. The words were still as measured as always but the coolness wavered within certain syllables. A fragility that didn’t belong to Mycroft Holmes. 

“We need to revisit the option of you getting direct care from an alpha.”

The slightest inhalation of breath was all that Mycroft needed to know that Sherlock was indeed still listening to him. 

“It’s the only logical way to manage your biology,” Mycroft continued, pushing his advantage. “Keep control of the mind you so desperately cherish.”

"The only desperation in this is yours to be free of your familial duties,” Sherlock rasped into the folds of the leather couch. Mycroft’s grip tensed on Sherlock's shoulder, but Sherlock surged on. "To have your brat of an omega brother finally mated and cooing over offspring so you can finally have a life of your - " 

"Enough."

There was just the hint of a growl in Mycroft’s command that caused Sherlock to shudder. The emotion might as well have been a knife in the manner that it cut through Sherlock’s chest and lay his terror of the need to obey so bare. Perhaps his scent had changed in discomfort because Mycroft’s hand released his shoulder and Mycroft stood up and took a few steps towards the hallway. Sherlock resolutely stayed as frozen as a pillar of stone.

“I’m still willing to accompany you on your errands,” Mycroft said. “As long as we’re clear on this discussion being revisited tomorrow.” 

Silence.

“Sherlock…”

“Fine. Tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the lovely comments and kudos to my little ABO story. I appreciate you all giving it a chance.

"Dr. Watson?"

John paused as his name was almost apologetically whispered. That wouldn't do at all. He smiled as he lifted his head from between his newest patient Toby Garrett's legs to meet the pair of incredibly nervous dark green eyes. 

"Please," John began, "Call me John. Did you have another question before I began?"

The young man bit his bottom lip and instinctively lowered his head. A sign of submission that came with subspecies that John pushed himself to not look too much into at the moment. That was never helpful.

"John...sorry," the man corrected. "But when you said that the inhibitor would block my heats for the next three months...does that mean my desire for sex will go away as well?"

This was at least a question that John could answer easily. That definitely was a good thing for the both of them.

"The type of inhibitor that I will be inserting is one of the newest versions," John replied. "And it has been reported in many omegas that unlike previous inserts it is much less likely to disrupt your natural sexual drive." John glanced at the Toby's slender neck. The skin was completely unbitten at the scent gland side. "I assume that you wish to stay umated for at least the next few months then?"

The omega again looked almost apologetic, bordering on shame. His legs shuffled in the stirrups as he spoke. "I _do_ have someone I'm seeing," he said quickly. "It's just that I wanted time to finish University and get a few years in my field before I commit to - " 

John placed a hand on the young man's knee and felt him tremble underneath his fingertips. Then a small sound of a whimper. Another sign of submission that John heard _way_ too often. 

"Hey," John said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you wanting to do whatever you feel is best for yourself. I have many omegas patients who have chosen to block their heats for a variety of reasons. I'm only asking about your plans to make sure that I am offering the best option for your situation. The inhibitor will be placed within your uterine wall and slowly dissolve over time. You may have some sensations of your heat beginning in the first month, but it will quickly subside. Are you seeing an alpha or beta?"

The young man lowered his gaze again. "An alpha."

John turned off to the side to change out his latex gloves for a new pair. "Then their scent will more naturally cause your body to self lubricate during intercourse. In general your slick should be unaffected by the inhibitor, but you know your body better than anyone, Toby. So don't be afraid to communicate with your partner or my office, all right?"

Toby continued to look off to the left to where John's hand had rested on his knee only moments before. As if thrown off by the tenderness. 

"I don't want to lose him," Toby muttered, finally chancing a glance back to John's waiting eyes. "Alphas...you all have needs to soothe and honor to uphold."

"You," John whispered, and Toby's breath hitched at the intensity. "Belong to no one but yourself. Any alpha who can't respect that doesn't deserve even the _ability_ to bond."

It was natural for Toby to look away once more. John sensed the younger man struggling to keep eye contact. 

"You're right," Toby said. The shakiness in his tone momentarily gone. His legs muscles flinched before he leaned back. "I'm ready now."

Then with a small hum of solidarity, John prepared the inhibitor to be inserted. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is here! Thank you again for staying with the story! Comments and kudos are always appreciated. <3

The world was full of way too many stimuli. An omega/beta couple who had just made up after a fight. A sickly alpha contemplating telling his alpha offspring - a son, most likely - that he needed a stronger dose of his arthritis medication. Another omega contemplating that costly operation that would hopefully result in her never having to go through another heat ever again. 

“Stop it,” Mycroft whispered from just behind Sherlock’s left ear. “Keep your eyes and brain on the task at hand.”

Sherlock huffed as a reply, and then went back to looking down at his mobile screen. The image of a Belstaff coat with all the most important details sat frozen underneath his hovering thumb. It had taken weeks of clever manipulation and annoying compromises to get to this point, so Sherlock said nothing else. At least not for now. 

“Mr. Holmes?” the woman called from just behind the counter. Her teeth as white and fake as the pearls that dangled from her slender neck. “I have the coat ready for your younger brother.”

Mycroft returned her smile as he placed a single palm to the middle of Sherlock’s back and pushed him to move towards the woman. A gentle growl of calm left his mouth and Sherlock gave a small nod of understanding. Get the final fitting underway and then leave. No snide comments or needless deductions and he would get the newest coat to add to his expansive collection. 

“You are looking well, Margaret,” Mycroft mentioned kindly. “How is Lilith doing with the new baby?”

Margaret beamed as she gestured Sherlock towards the large fitting room behind her. Her incredibly high heeled shoes clicked on the dark marble flooring as she moved to follow Sherlock inside.

“They are doing wonderfully,” she giggled. “But you know how omegas are. They cry and pout more than the baby, right?”

Sherlock felt his face tighten as Mycroft joined in at Margaret’s laughter. He made a point of filing this verbal exchange in his mind palace for later discussion.  _ After  _ he got his coat. The dressing room was the largest in the store with various mirrors placed to show off every angle. Sherlock stepped up on the riser in the middle and checked out his reflection. His plum-colored button-down seemed to make his pale skin almost glow in the artificial light. 

“A moment, if you mind?” Mycroft asked, and Sherlock breathed out a sigh of annoyance. Margaret gave a quick agreement and ducked out of the dressing room and pulled the red privacy curtains closed. 

“I’m fine,” Sherlock hissed out before Mycroft could even say a word. “Just like the three times you have checked since the bank and the two additional times at the -”

“I will inquire as to your health as many times as I deem it necessary, brother mine. And you will respond truthfully and with full disclosure. Do you understand?”

It was hard not to say something bitingly sarcastic. Especially when Sherlock was with the aid of the riser now a good few inches taller than his older brother. Mycroft tilted his chin down in warning. 

“No pain in any extremities except a slight sting at the injection site,” Sherlock rattled off in a quick monotone. “Otherwise I feel physically well.”

Mycroft took the information in as he stared up into his younger brother’s eyes. “And emotionally...how are you coping?”

“Heart rate and breathing are slightly elevated, but that is most likely due to the current conversation."

Mycroft frowned at that, but turned back to the closed curtains and called Margaret back in. The small patch of the only natural sunlight that had streamed from the outside front windows of the store disappeared from Sherlock’s sight in that one action, and he was alone. 

The final fitting went as well as expected, with only a couple of additional adjustments to be made and the promise that the coat would be available by the end of the week. Sherlock ignored any conversations within the shop as he settled his silver-blue eyes back onto his phone. This time the website centered around spore collection and provided helpful hints to the reader, and much more fascinating than the pointed comments that Mycroft kept grumbling his way. 

"Wait in the car for me," Mycroft said as he pulled out his own mobile phone. "Need to make a business call before we continue on. Talk to no one.”

Sherlock moved swiftly from the store muttering about governmental rubbish with the hopes that Mycroft only caught enough of the words to get irritated, but nothing more. The black car that brought them was only at the corner of the street. A two-minute walk at most. 

London was unusually quiet that afternoon, so it was easier for Sherlock to act as if he had been heeding Mycroft’s word. The soft hum of the car engine and occasional sounds of local birds was the only sounds of any consequence as Sherlock briskly walked. That was until something was very very off. 

There was a faint buzzing in the base of his skull. Almost like an inner ear disturbance that Sherlock would in other times, generally ignored. His transport was never a particularly enjoyable part of himself, but this was different. Strange in such a way that Sherlock found himself standing still with the tips of his index fingers to his temples. His eyes shut tight and took deep and steady breaths to try to focus on what might be wrong. 

Perhaps if he had stayed like this for more than a few seconds, the next series of events would not have occurred, but Sherlock wasn’t about to allow his body to once more control his actions. So he reopened his eyes, and the world went sideways. 

All of the colors everywhere went way too vivid. The buzzing in his skull now was a ripping screech as Sherlock took a wobbled step backward to try to take all of the heightened data in. He may have shouted out, as he felt vaguely aware of his mouth dropping open and vibrations at the back of his throat. Instinctively he grabbed for something on his way down, and for a moment he was weightless before the pain of crashing to the sidewalk surged within him, and then nothing left but quiet darkness. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is here. Kudos and comments are loved and appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!

John heard it first, and his body naturally reacted. After the fact, he'd chalk this up to alpha instinct that in one way or another would always lay dormant. Waiting for the right time to shift into either fight mode, or in a deep need to protect. 

The sound came from an omega. Something very close to a panicked cry, and much too near for John to do nothing. Even if he hadn't been in the medical field, instinct would have been why he ran towards the small collection of people milling around someone on the ground. 

"I’m a doctor," he called out. "Let me come through. Let me come through, please."

These calm yet firm words were what got the crowd to open up and allow John to see the man sprawled out on the pavement. His hair in an explosion of darken curls that hinted of auburn underneath. The mouth slightly opened as if caught by surprise at the situation erupting around him, but it was the taller man’s eyes that had John’s true concern. Clouded and staring off as if trapped behind a veil that would never be lifted. 

“Someone call emergency,” John barked out and was relieved when a woman to his right pulled out his mobile phone immediately and began to dial. “Tell them that we are near the corner of...Timberland and Jackson. Does anybody know this - ”

“Sherlock? What’s happened?”

A tall man in a finely tailored suit had pushed himself through the thinning group and bent down on Sherlock’s other side. His serious expression darted from John and then back down to the fallen man. 

“That's my baby brother,” the other man said promptly. “Sherlock. Omega. Unbonded. 34 years old."

John nodded as he dipped down lower to check Sherlock’s vitals. Breathing slowly but not dangerously so. Penlight pulled from John's front pocket and then shined into each of Sherlock's half-opened eyes. 

"Dilation is there, but sluggish," John said quickly to the woman, and then lifted his hand to take the offered mobile. "This is Dr. John Watson," he continued into the phone. The patient is an unbonded omega. 34. More than likely suffering from Omega Fog."

Mycroft sat back on his heels and listened hard. There were only the two of them now next to Sherlock's stilled form. The lingering few left from before now respectfully at a distance to allow more room to do whatever was necessary. 

"They'll be here in a few minutes," John said reassuringly as he handed Mycroft the mobile, then slowly pulled out a small device from his messenger bag. "It's a phero-pen," John explained to Mycroft's gaze at it. "Works very much like - "

"An Epi-pen," Mycroft interrupted, his tone impatient. "Injects pheromone fluid directly into the body. Ironically, I had planned on Sherlock starting to carry one within the next month."

John paused just long enough to register what Mycroft said. He would circle back with questions at a more appropriate time. For now, his attention needed to be on the unconscious man beside him. 

"Any medications he's presently on?"

"Hormone inhibitors and an alpha infused pheromone shot at approximately 8:00am this morning," Mycroft responded. 

With a steady motion John placed the Phero-pen up to Sherlock's upper thigh. The injection caused the slightest of flinching in Sherlock’s body. A twitch of his leg that had John exhale out a breath. 

Mycroft watched the doctor intently. His gaze had a laser focus that John had never felt before. As if his every move was being analyzed for later interrogation. 

John shifted just enough to redeposit the spent Phero-pen back into his bag. His steady hands swept up Sherlock's body to feel for any additional obvious injuries and was relieved to not find them. 

"Emergency is two minutes away," Mycroft said, his right ear still pressed to the phone, but his eyes directly on Sherlock as he began to move a bit more on the ground. "He seems to be coming around.'

With a nod John placed himself into a full seated position and reached down to slowly pull Sherlock into his arms. The omega grunted sleepily as his head tilted forward and nose pressed into the side of John's neck. John felt the regal nose give a tentative sniff. 

"He's scenting," John explained quickly to the concerned look on Mycroft's face. "It can happen after a fog. The omega needs direct contact with an alpha's scent to help pull them out of it."

Sherlock sniffed again. This time a deeper breath that felt so warm that John suppressed a shudder. His mind switched over to as medical as he could as he held Sherlock close and purred quietly into the midnight curls. Sherlock shifted his legs until he was practically on John's lap, and John swallowed hard. The intimacy of Sherlock's touches was in such sharp contrast to the swirl of activity around them. 

"Alpha?" Sherlock slurred out. John leaned his head back enough to see that Sherlock's hazy eyes were adjusting back to their natural color. If such a word as _natural_ was a proper definition for such a stunning silvery-blueness existence that they might just destroy John in their majesty.

"Yes…" John whispered back, but then remembered himself and his profession. "I mean...no, but I'm here for you to be near until the - "

Sherlock had stopped John's words with a kiss and John gasped into it. The sensation of Sherlock's hands groping at wherever they found purchase to hold John as tight as he could. John had been kissed before many, many times, but nothing like this. The surge of want and heat in the full force of Sherlock's lips on his. The desire of an omega who was letting go and it took all of John's resistance to not growl out a mating cry and start the bonding process. 

In what felt like another world John could hear the sound of Mycroft's shout of surprise. Then another set of hands were in between them as the other alpha tried to break them apart. 

"It's ok," John rasped out as Sherlock continued to try to kiss him even more. "This can happen too. He's not in control of his senses right now."

Sherlock whimpered low as John placed a final peck on his reddened lips before the rush of paramedics seemed to magically appear. They were able to get Sherlock off of John's lap and onto a waiting gurney. Mycroft barked out information to them as they began their work to connect Sherlock with a breathing mask and recheck his vitals. 

"Take him to Bart's," Mycroft roared out, and the paramedics - all betas by their scents - quaked under Mycroft's demand and carried Sherlock into the ambulance. "I will be right behind in the car. Take all short-cuts needed."

John stood shakily to his feet. His mouth still felt like an electrical circuit was running through it and his hair disheveled from Sherlock's long fingers. 

"And you, Dr. Watson…" Mycroft breathed out, his voice deadly calm. "Will be coming with me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a bit of time but here is another chapter of our A/B/O story. Comments and kudos are always encouraging, and thank you for taking the time to read!

John sniffed and immediately regretted his decision. The honey scent of arousal mixed with confusion still clung to the wool of his jumper and that triggered a need to protect the omega that belonged to the smell. John’s body gave a twitch.

"You seem more affected than you first claimed, Dr. Watson."

Mycroft peered over to John in the car seat directly across from him. The intensity of the other alpha's gaze reminded John of the omega now being driven to the hospital in front of them. Definitely, brothers, even if the familial scent wasn’t in every area of the luxury vehicle. 

"Your brother went through one of the most horrific things his subspecies can endure," John retorted. "so, yes...that type of thing would bloody well affect me."

The car made a left while the ambulance continued straight, and John openly frowned. The driver seemed to be heading down a small road with very little traffic, and the divider between themselves and the driver silently went up now blocking John's view out of the front of the car.

"Why are we detouring?" John asked sharply. "It's essential that I am on site for when your brother - "

"I'm aware that you are very important in Sherlock's recovery, Dr. Watson. It is not my objective to keep you apart from him. On the contrary...but I have a few questions first."

It was as if the mood had turned just as abruptly as the direction of the car, and if John hadn’t been on hyper-alert already Mycroft’s words would have done the trick in an instance. The older brother was an alpha, but with a much more restrained air of self, and that for some reason unsettled John. It made the hairs on the back of John’s neck stand at attention to be ready to defend himself both with his mind and his muscles alike. 

“When did you start carrying a not yet regulated drug within the linings on your person?”

John stared, eyes narrowed. Then darted his gaze to the left and right towards the very locked sets of car doors. 

“I have no need to tell the proper authorities of anything you have done,” Mycroft continued. He leaned back in the seat and crossed his leg over the other. John liked this more relaxed pose even less than the glare. “But I do believe that if you are to continue to treat my brother then we should be as open and honest with each other as possible. Don’t you agree?”

A few moments dragged in between them, with John trying to push away the memory of how delicious Sherlock's lips tasted. The bloom of Sherlock’s scenting aroma trapped in the crease of his collar was all about instinct only and John needed to _remember_ that. 

“The clinical trials were completed at my hospital, and all alphas within the program fully tested. It was my choice to nick a couple of phero-pens. The results are desperately needed for omegas, who have chosen for one reason or another to not be bound by an alpha. I acted alone to save your brother, and if I had it to do all over again... _I would_.”

Mycroft's facade of indifference evaporated, and in its place hitched an expression even more disconcerting to John. Keen interest. 

“You’re very loyal, very quickly.”

John swallowed hard. His mind was steadily calculating what actions to take if this conversation went any more sideways. “Being an advocate for a subspecies who have suffered centuries isn’t about loyalty, Mr. Holmes. It’s about morality and justice.”

A hum of agreement from the other alpha, but John still felt his jaw tighten. 

“True...however, I wonder if it’s the proper protocol for the alpha whose pheromones are within the same phero-pens to be injecting patients directly. Appears that might cause reactions like the ones my little brother demonstrated…”

John released a breath that was way more of a growl, which Mycroft downright ignored. 

“Increased alertness within seconds of injection...insistent movements to scent the potential mate…”

“Are we done?”

“You tell me.”

The car turned again. This time left onto a much more familiar street to John. St. Bart’s hospital was at most a few minutes away. 

“The pheromones belonged to me...yes,” John answered. While his tone was soft his posture was still just as unrelenting dominant as before. “And your brother most likely scented me because of it. It’s a temporary side effect to an otherwise brilliant medicine, I assure you.”

Then to John’s surprise yet again, Mycroft’s expression changed. This time to something close to amusement. 

“You can not assure me as to anything when Sherlock is concerned, Dr. Watson. However, that's a later problem. For now, let’s both try to get him as healthy as he can get before he destroys that unfortunate hospital.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter finally creeps across the finish line. Sorry to everyone for the longer times for updates. Been dealing with some medical issues that hopefully will start to get better soon. A huge thank you to WritingOutLoud for graciously becoming the Britpicker and Beta Reader for this story. Good Holy Hudders do I know I need it!
> 
> Kudos, comments and warm hugs are loved beyond measure to me. <3
> 
> Tad

He deplored being touched. Even as a child Sherlock had shied away from hands, regardless of the reasons they were placed onto his skin. He never cried about it, but instead, his face would show his displeasure, and more often than not the person would pull away and leave him alone.

Both of his parents would excuse this as moodiness. Mycroft understood that it went so much deeper than that, and began to protect. 

“Sorry. Was delayed. Update please?”

A muffled voice in the darkness. Male. Familiar. Not Mycroft. 

The sounds of beeps from a machine. Rhythmic. Off to the right and slightly behind. 

“Omega fog confirmed. Moderate.”

Female respondent. Younger in age. Smell indicated that she was a beta. Most likely a nurse.

“Did he pull off from the midazolam well?”

The nurse must be responding nonverbally. The male voice cleared his throat as paperwork rustled. Possibly medical charts or general hospital notes. 

A hand. Warm. Confident of its intention; placed onto Sherlock’s left shoulder. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes. You’re a Saint Barts Hospital. There are two people in the room. A beta nurse named Anna Kennings and I’m John Watson. Your doctor.”

Sherlock’s browline furrowed as his eyes opened slowly. John’s face adjusted into focus. 

“You’re the alpha I kissed…” The words came out sluggish and deep with sleep, but John’s reaction was clear that Sherlock was speaking coherently enough to be understood. Sherlock’s lips twitched. “Your ears go pink when you’re embarrassed, John Watson.”

The nurse barely swallowed her chuckle as she moved over to the right side of the bed and made some adjustments to the heart monitor behind Sherlock. 

“So it would appear...yes,” John replied. He moved his hand off Sherlock’s shoulder. “Feel free to ask any questions at all. I’ll do my best to answer them for you.”

Anna swept from the room with a small nod to the two of them. Sherlock waited until the door closed behind her and she had vanished down the hall. It was when Sherlock tried to shift into more of an upright position that he realized that his arms were secured with medical restraints. 

“Evidently my previous reactions in hospital have been noted.”

John gave a sound of affirmation as he leaned over to more easily examine Sherlock’s eyes with the penlight. “You bit two nurses and gave an orderly a mild concussion in the space of ten minutes before they were able to properly sedate you. It took your brother’s influence to not have you completely bound and muzzled, Mr. Holmes.”

“Sherlock,” Sherlock corrected. “And I don’t fancy hospitals.”

John clicked off the penlight and pulled away. “That’s quite the understatement.”

The beeps from the heart monitor picked up in speed, and John turned his attention towards it. Sherlock followed his gaze.

“I don’t have a history of heart issues so I assume that’s for general precaution?”

“Yes...very standard when Omega Fog is involved. Yours was manageable…”

The alpha inside of John wanted to add thankfully or luckily to the end of his last sentence, but the medical need to stay neutral was fighting a battle. A battle that John was losing very quickly. 

“Only because you were there,” Sherlock muttered. “So for that...I’m confident that my older brother will reward you handsomely.”

John shook his head. The last thing that he needed on top of all of this was a payoff. Even if the Holmes’ were the type of family who oozed all manners of money. 

“Getting you healthy enough to adequately monitor your own pheromone levels is a suitable reward for me.”

Sherlock twisted as much as he could to see as much of John as possible. The mid-afternoon sun shimmered into the room by the bay window and created a glow wherever it reached. The golden hues greatly suited John. As if he were a beacon of light that Sherlock longed to follow. 

“Your values are very odd for an alpha.”

“My values for an alpha are where my subspecies should’ve been centuries ago. You deserve to not have to depend on anyone but yourself, Sherlock.”

The room began to darken. The sun must have gone behind a cluster of clouds, but Sherlock kept his eyes fixed on John. An unanticipated click and his left arm was freed from it’s restraint. 

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“Not entirely, no. However, you need to eat and you don’t seem the type who would tolerate being spoon-fed.”

John moved over to the other side of the bed and released Sherlock’s other arm. The omega took in the strong hands and forearms of the alpha. The way his eyes never roamed over Sherlock’s body as he worked. 

“I meant what I said about you needing to eat,” John muttered. “Fogs and the treatment for them require consistent nourishment, and you’re already more on the lean side than medically safe for your age.”

Sherlock rubbed at his right arm with his left as John made his way back to the sink to wash his hands. 

“You sound like my brother.”

“Your brother is a controlling and manipulative git, but he does care about your welfare, Sherlock. Even though I personally want to knock some sense into him with that bloody cane...”

A rumble of laughter escaped from Sherlock’s mouth and John laughed along with him. Perhaps this alpha was worth getting to know a bit more.


End file.
